


Closing the Distance

by msraven



Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Deaf Clint Barton, Fluff, Friendship, Holiday Fic Exchange, M/M, Matchmaking, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-09 03:34:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5523923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msraven/pseuds/msraven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint Barton has an eye for finding matches, it’s why he’s a professional matchmaker. He’s had several successful matches, including matching Tony Stark with the love of his life, which makes Clint a well sought after matchmaker. The downside is Tony keeps trying to hire him to find his employees matches, which is fine so long as the employee wants to be matched. Phil Coulson, however, has no desire to be matched to anyone, but Tony is stubborn and annoying, so he’ll at least meet with this matchmaker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Closing the Distance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [uofmdragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/uofmdragon/gifts).



> Written for the Clint/Coulson Holiday Exchange. The fic summary is the original prompt. I hope I did it justice and got all the pairings right.
> 
> Thank you as always, to my amazing beta. You know who you are.

Phil notices him as soon as he enters the room—understatedly handsome, slim build, muscular, and moves with a grace that signals he's in full control of his body. It's a small party by Stark's standards and Phil is technically a guest, but off duty or not, there is something about this man that demands Phil's attention. He watches as the man's eyes scan the room, pausing at each of the exit points before lighting up in recognition as Tony walks toward him with open arms. 

"Clint!" Tony greets as they share a warm, but clearly platonic hug. "Glad you could make it!"

Clint laughs as they break apart. "Sending Steve wasn't playing fair."

"Sorry man, but I know how to play my aces. We really wanted you to be here. There wouldn't have been an engagement to celebrate without you."

Phil's stomach sinks in disappointment. This must be the matchmaker that Stark has been raving about and expressly forbidden Phil from doing a background check on. As much as Phil likes Captain Rogers and agrees Stark and he are a surprisingly well matched pair, Phil doesn't believe that this Mr. Barton provided any special insight in bringing them together. To claim that he is able to find anyone's true love makes Barton an optimistic romantic at best and a charlatan at worst. 

He watches as Steve joins the other two, enveloping Barton in another enthusiastic hug until his ears pink from all the attention. Phil turns his back and walks to the bar at the rear of the room where the caterer has thankfully set up their own bartender—Tony's cocktails tend to be more about alcohol content, than flavor. 

"A Manhattan, please."

"Coming right up."

"You're not the usual catering staff," Phil can't help commenting. He'd let Melinda handle the security for the party since Stark had insisted he be in attendance as a guest. 

"We don't usually handle gigs this high end. Doing a favor for a friend."

The bartender puts Phil's drink in front of him and Phil takes a sip with a satisfied nod. 

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." The bartender gives Phil a polite nod in return and then looks up with a grin. "Yo, Hawkeye! You class up good."

"Suck it Barnes."

Phil looks over to see that it's Barton who's come up to the bar. He makes a series of quick hand motions and it takes Phil a few moments to realize that Barton and the bartender, Barnes, are speaking to each other in sign. Phil doesn't know ASL, but he's observant enough to notice that Barnes isn't signing fully with his left hand, which means that he and Barton know each other well enough that they've learned to compensate for it. Barnes eventually backs away, flipping Barton off with one finger as he goes to help someone at the other end of the bar. 

Barton laughs and turns to Phil with a sheepish grin that Phil can't help but find charming. "Sorry about that."

"You must be the friend."

"Huh?"

"He said that he was here as a favor for a friend."

"Oh! Yeah. Nat, Bucky's wife, is catering tonight. They're my best friends and I wanted some familiar faces if I was coming tonight. Tony's been trying to get them to cater for him for a while, but his parties aren't usually their style."

"Are they yours?" Phil asks, even though he already knows the answer. He's never had to vett Barton as a guest for one of Tony's parties before. 

"My style? No. Too many people. I don't have the greatest hearing on most occasions and all the background noise makes it worse."

"Is that why you learned to sign?" 

"No," Barton answers as he steps closer to where Phil is sitting and rests his muscular forearms against the bar. Phil leans closer, genuinely interested despite his misgivings about Barton's matchmaking claims. "My mom was Deaf. I've been signing since before I could talk. My condition is more recent—degenerative. It's how I met Tony."

"Oh?"

"I don't have any problems being Deaf—everyone I care about signs and I read lips and body language better than most people actually listen. But in my business, I need both verbal and visual cues when I talk to potential matches. That's why I decided to join a Stark test group."

"The hearing aids he was developing?"

Barton nods and shrugs. "I was never looking for a magical cure—didn't need one—so I guess my feedback was different from everyone else's. I think it still bugs him that I opt not to use the aids most of the time."

Phil's eyes automatically go to Barton's ears and he grins before turning slightly to give Phil a better view. 

"I haven't bothered to tune them beyond the acoustics in my office. I'm Clint, by the way. Clint Barton."

Barton straightens and holds his hand out to Phil. He has a firm handshake, that Phil can appreciate, and interesting callouses, that once again piques Phil's interest. 

"Phil Coulson. You're the matchmaker."

"See," Clint says as takes his hand out of Phil's grip. "I didn't need my ears to tell me that you think I'm full of shit."

"I don't—"

"Clint!" Tony calls out from behind Phil before he can try and correct Clint's assessment. "There's someone I want you to meet." 

Tony's hands move excitedly as he talks and Phil comes to the startling realization that Tony has learned ASL. Clint signs back, slower than how he'd responded to Barnes, and doesn't speak, leaving Phil with only Tony's half of the conversation. 

"Yes. Trust me, they need a match… I know your rules, but… No, I didn't actually _ask_ … Come on. Just meet her. For me?"

Clint sighs good naturedly at Tony's plaintive request and turns back to Phil with a small, polite smile. "Guess I have to go. It was nice meeting you, Mr. Coulson."

"Phil!" Tony says, as if just realizing Phil is standing next to him. Then Tony's eyes narrow in consideration before he grins in a way that makes Phil immediately nervous. " _Phil_."

"Yes, that's Phil," Clint agrees, grabbing Tony by the shoulders and physically turning him away from Phil. "You were going to introduce me to someone, right? Let's go do that. Bye Phil."

They walk away with some gentle prodding from Clint and Phil gets a quick glance at Clint's ass encased in designer denim before they disappear into the crowd. When he turns away from appreciating the view, he finds Barnes back on his side of the bar with a knowing smirk on his face. It's probably not the first time he's caught someone ogling his friend's ass.

"Another Manhattan?"

Phil looks down at his drink and finishes what little is left. "Yes, please."

"Coming right up."

"You've known Barton a long time," Phil says when his fresh drink is placed in front of him.

"Clint? Yeah. He's a good friend. About as honest and loyal as you'll ever find, which makes him a pain in the ass most of the time. It's also what makes him easy to love." Barnes looks around and then leans closer to Phil, sharing a confidence. "I know this matchmaking thing sounds like a lark, but it's real. Clint's got a gift for understanding people and it took us a long time to convince him to make something of it."

"You sound like you're speaking from experience."

"I am. I wouldn't discount him so easily, if I were you."

Barnes moves away again and leaves Phil to frown down at his drink. It's not like he dislikes Clint. He just doesn't agree that anyone needs a matchmaker. Phil takes a sip of his drink and looks around the room for Pepper. It's not like his opinion of Clint and his business matters one way or the other.

~^~

Phil should have known that it would take more than a small distraction to dim the gleam he'd seen in Tony's eyes at the party. The bigger surprise is that Tony waited for nearly a week after the party to show up in Phil's office unannounced.

"You should hire Clint," Tony says without preamble as he plops into Phil's guest chair.

"Has he done security before? I can ask Melinda if she has an opening on her team."

"No, not that. Hire him to match you."

"And why would I do that?"

"Because if anyone needs someone to come home to, it you."

Phil finally looks up from the papers in front of him and raises an eyebrow at Tony, daring him to continue.

"Oh come on. Don't give the eyebrow. I know working security for me is stressful. Nobody's ever stuck around as long as you have. I'm not totally oblivious. You work too many hours and when you do go home, it's to an empty apartment."

"I'm touched, but I knew what I was signing on for when I took this job."

"Look… I'm not trying to tell you how to live your life."

Both of Phil's eyebrows go up this time and Tony lets out a huff of frustration.

"Okay, fine. I am, but it's for a good reason. You can't tell me you've never thought of finding someone to spend the rest of your life with."

"Even if I have, it doesn't mean I'm in need of a supposed matchmaker."

"I know you're skeptical, but you've seen the results. You _like_ Steve and I would never have met him if Clint hadn't matched us."

"Is this you trying to drum up business for a new friend?"

"No. Clint doesn't need my help. He's got too many clients as it is. He actually asked me to stop telling everyone about matching Steve and I."

"Then why are you even asking me to do this?"

" _Because_ …"

"Well that's convincing."

"Because I'm happy," Tony snaps and then looks down at his lap, clearly uncomfortable. It's unusual enough that Phil stays quiet as Tony fidgets with his engagement ring and doesn't look back up when he continues to speak. "I never imagined being as happy as Steve makes me. He makes me want to be a better me. And I… I can't help wanting people I care about to be happy too."

Phil has known for a while that Tony included him in the small group of friends and colleagues he considered family, though he never actually expected Tony to say so out loud. It's what startles him into saying something he knows he'll probably regret later.

"I'll consider it."

"Great!" Tony jumps out of his chair, all earlier discomfort replaced with a wide grin. He produces a business card out of nowhere and places it on Phil's desk. "You should call Clint as soon as you can. Maybe he can fit you in before the holidays."

"Wouldn't it be better for you to tell him for me?"

"Nah. I'm sure he remembers you from the party."

"What aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing. What wouldn't I be telling you?"

"Tony…"

"Clint has _rules_ ," Tony says as if it pains him to admit knowing about them. "He doesn't want me to prod—"

"Coerce."

"—gently suggest people ask him for a match. He says it's better for people to decide on their own that they want a match."

"How dare he have integrity about his work."

"Figures you'd side with him," Tony grumbles and starts toward the door. "Don't forget to call him!"

Phil picks up the business card. It only has Clint's name and number printed on it, along with what Phil assumes is the company logo in one corner—a stylized arrow in the center of a bullseye. He rubs his thumb across Clint's name, immediately feels silly for the compulsion, and sets the card aside to refocus on the security brief in front of him. 

At midnight, Tony sends him an email reminding him to call Clint. The next morning, it's a text and then a varied number of texts, task reminders, emails, calendar notices, and voice mails over the next few days. Phil is too busy dealing with a potential security leak at their Malibu facility to bother telling Tony to stop. By the end of the week, Phil has plugged the leak in Malibu and set up multiple filters to block the nagging reminders from Tony. 

When he sees Clint Barton standing at his secretary's desk the next morning, Phil is half annoyed at Tony's antics and half appreciative of the view he gets as Clint bends to write something on the piece of paper Darcy hands him. Phil takes a few steps closer and Clint stops, straightens, and looks over his shoulder. 

"Mr. Coulson," Clint greets, giving him a polite smile and a firm handshake. "I'm not sure if you remember me from the party?"

"Of course I remember you and it's Phil. Was there something you needed?"

"No." He holds up a large envelope. "I was just going to leave this with a note."

"Why don't you come into my office? I have a few minutes before my first meeting."

Phil motions for Clint to precede him and then takes the envelope as they sit across his desk from one another. 

"I don't want to take up too much of your time. That's a comprehensive background check on me. I know that Tony wouldn't let you do anything more than a criminal history for the party."

"Shoplifting when you were ten," Phil says automatically, watching as Clint's eyes tighten minutely. "May I ask why you felt this was necessary?"

"I do thorough checks on everyone I match, which Tony knows and agrees with. I'm not sure why he thought letting you do the same meant he didn't trust me."

"That doesn't explain why you're providing this now. You already have unrestricted access to Tony."

"It's for you. I know that Tony's been on you to call me. I'm pretty sure you don't actually want to be matched, especially by me, but in case you just didn't want to deal with someone you didn't know, I figured I owed you that. If it's the former and you find it as hard to say no to Tony as the rest of us, then you can use what's in there to push back on Tony."

Phil puts his hand on the envelope, but doesn't move to open it. "Is there something in here I should be concerned about?"

"It depends."

"On?"

"How you read it. I'm not going to apologize for my past or try to make excuses for what you'll find. The conclusions you draw are yours to make." There's a knock at the door and Clint immediately stands. "You may want to start on page eight though. Thanks for you time."

Phil stands to shake Clint's outstretched hand and is at a loss on what to say. It's clear that Clint expects this to be their last voluntary interaction and it leaves Phil feeling—once again—like he's made an incorrect, if not necessarily bad, first impression. Clint draws genuine affection from the people who know him and, despite what it may look like on the surface, it isn't easy to earn Tony's trust or loyalty. Phil finds Clint more than a little intriguing, but life has taught him to be cautious and he still has large reservations about Clint's business. 

Clint walks to the door, his entire posture relaxing when he sees who's on the other side. 

"Mel!"

Melinda May's normally stoic expression softens into a genuine smile as Clint gives her a quick hug and kiss on the cheek. "Clint. How are you?"

"Good. Busy. Jasper still treating you right?"

"Of course. Did he text you about the poker game?"

"Yup. I'll be there. I'll let you get back to work. See you soon."

They share another warm hug and Phil's mind whirs as Melinda shuts the door and joins Phil at his desk. 

"Did he… Jasper?" Phil can't help but ask. Melinda has been dating Jasper Sitwell—a detective with the NYPD—for a few months now. They've met on a few occasions and Phil found Jasper to be perfect for Melinda.

"Yes."

"Who…?"

"I was the one who hired Clint."

"Oh."

Melinda's expression challenges Phil to ask why, but Phil knows well enough to drop the subject. 

"Right. So… What's the latest on Malibu?"

~^~

Phil doesn't get a chance to read Clint's file until later that evening. He settles on his couch with a whiskey in one hand and starts from the first page, frowning at what he sees about Clint's childhood: multiple reports filed by CPS, followed by an accident report, and then a list of foster homes. There's the juvenile arrest report Phil has already seen and then nothing until Clint enlisted with the Navy at eighteen. There is commendation after commendation—Clint's Navy career rising steadily until he's recruited into special forces—and then an abrupt end with a dishonorable discharge. Phil looks down at the bottom of the paper and confirms he's on page eight of the file.

"Damn."

Clint must know that Phil is a former Army Ranger. The reason for the dishonorable discharge is redacted as classified and Phil is reaching for the phone before he can overthink it. 

"Fury."

"Hi Marcus."

"Cheese! Long time no talk. How's the billionaire life treating you these days?"

"Never boring."

"Should have chosen a calmer billionaire to retire with, then."

"Ugh. Don't say it like that, please. You make it sound like I shacked up with Tony Stark."

Fury barks out a laugh. "Heard he got engaged to an Army man, but not you."

"Yeah, that's kind of what I'm calling about."

"Rogers has an exemplary record."

"Not Steve. Did you hear about the matchmaker that got him together with Stark?"

"Yeah, but didn't think it was true."

"It's true," Phil confirms, trusting that Fury isn't the gossiping type. "The matchmaker's name is Clint Barton."

"You're shitting me."

"You know him?"

"His marksmanship is legendary in Black Ops. Got a raw deal, from what I've heard."

"So the dishonorable isn't real?"

"Oh no, it's real. Disobeyed a direct order from command."

"Then why is it classified?"

"Well, one way to see it is that the op he was on was pretty sensitive."

"And the other way?"

"That Barton and his SO agreed on an alternate course of action to prevent civilian casualties, but the captain in command had it out for the SO. Barton fell on his sword at the hearing. The SO's twin sons—born a month after the hearing—are named Clinton and Francis."

Phil runs his finger across Clint's full name at the top of the page. "Why didn't the SO testify against the captain?"

"You've been out too long. Did you forget that lying under oath gets you discharged too? Wouldn't have made sense to get them both discharged."

"So Barton saved an unknown number of civilians _and_ his SO's career."

"Don't canonize him yet. The captain came down with a rare disease a few months later. Nothing fatal, but it impacted his motor skills enough that he had to retire early. Turns out that it was something Hammer Industries was trying to develop and dropped because it wasn't a fatal enough toxin."

"What does Hammer Industries have to do with this?"

"It's who Barton worked for after being discharged. You didn't know?"

"I hadn't gotten that far yet." Phil flips the page. "He was only with Hammer for eight months in weapons development." Clint's next listed employer is Romanov Catering, staying with her for a few years before opening his new business.

"I'll bet you fifty bucks Stark knows why he left Hammer."

"I don't take sucker bets."

Fury laughs again and Phil makes himself talk to his old friend about other, trivial things before promising to keep in touch and hanging up the phone. He swirls the amber liquid in his glass and muses on the continuing mystery of Clint Barton. Phil wants to know how a storied marksman became a matchmaker and starts to build a plan on how to accomplish this goal. He doesn't, however, stop to consider why he so desperately needs to know.

~^~

The next morning, Tony suddenly decides that he wants the Stark Expo to be held overseas and Phil gets caught up in vetting acceptable locations. It's not until he sees Tony again on Halloween that Phil realizes there haven't been any new attempts to pepper him with reminders to call Clint.

"I still haven't called Barton," Phil says as he watches Tony adjust his Batman cape.

"Argh. This cape. What kind of superhero wears a cape? I'm going to spend all night tripping over myself."

"Then why choose Batman?"

"Because I'm a dark, brooding billionaire," Tony smirks and then grins when Phil rolls his eyes. "Steve had a crush on Batman when he was a kid and—"

Phil holds up hand. "I'm good with the first explanation, thank you."

"Your loss," Tony shrugs. "Clint told me to leave you alone. That matching needs trust."

"You think I can't trust him?"

"Clint also said that what I think isn't what matters and that pushing someone towards a match often makes them run in the other direction."

"I'm not that short-sighted. You know that I'm not the kind of person to dismiss someone because of their past."

"Of course, I know that. I wouldn't have hired you otherwise."

"But..?"

"You still haven't called Clint."

"I've been busy."

"Right."

"I _have_ , or are you forgetting your lovely idea to hold the Expo outside of New York?"

Tony waves away Phil's excuse. "If you really wanted Clint to match you, you would have made time."

"It's not Clint. Everything that I've seen and heard tells me he's a good man. I am curious what made him leave Hammer."

"Like you said, Clint's a good man. Hammer isn't."

Phil nods, knowing that Tony won't betray a confidence and there's no point in pressing the issue.

"If it's not Clint, then what is it? You don't think he'll be able to find you a match?"

"No. Again, all evidence says he's very good at his job."

"So you don't want a match?" Tony asks, looking genuinely confused.

"The _idea_ of a match is very appealing, especially after seeing you and others he's matched."

"Then I don't get why you won't call Clint."

"Because I…" Phil stops, a wave of embarrassment rolling over him when he figures out the source of his reluctance. "I don't like the idea of needing someone else to find my match."

"So this is you feeling incompetent?"

"Possibly. I'm a grown, relatively intelligent man. I should be able to find my own match."

" _I_ couldn't."

"Neither could I," Steve adds as he walks in wearing a Superman costume. Tony's eyes nearly sparkle upon seeing his fiance and Phil feels envy settle heavily in his stomach. "Matchmaking is actually a fairly old profession. We may be able to communicate across the globe now, but it doesn't mean we're any better at finding the right person to be talking with. Isn't Clint better than typing in a bunch of information and letting a computer match you up with thirty strangers?"

"When you put it that way…"

"You can make anyone agree with you!" Tony gushes proudly. "I need to bring you to the next board meeting. Will you come to the next board meeting?"

"Pepper says the kids are here. You need to be on stage in five minutes to introduce the acts."

"Oh! Right. Let's go."

Tony strides away, but Steve stops to give Phil a friendly smile. "Tony really does mean well. If you aren't comfortable being matched, he won't bug you about it. Clint and I will make sure of it."

"Thank you."

"If you're willing, you should at least talk to Clint and let him tell you about what he does. It took a while for me to be convinced. Maybe over a coffee or in his office though, he probably won't have much time tonight."

"He's here?"

"Yeah, Tony got him to perform for the kids." They hear music strike up outside and Steve quickly moves to the door. "Oops. Gotta go. See you later, Phil."

Phil follows more slowly and glances at the guest list that Woo had given him that morning. Tony's Halloween Party for the local children's charities is an annual event and there, below the usual list of magicians, dancers, and other performers, is Clint Barton as Hawkeye, The World's Greatest Marksman. Phil remembers the gap in Clint's teenage years and grins. He weaves his way through the crowd toward the stage, places himself in an unobtrusive corner with a clear view of the stage, and tries to prepare himself to learn about a new facet of Clint Barton.

~^~

"Oh, it's you." Clint's eyes widen in surprise before he shakes his head, opening the door to his office wider. "Sorry, sorry. That was rude. I wasn't expecting you. Please come in."

"I should apologize as well. I didn't think to call ahead."

"Not a problem. My last appointment is twenty minutes late, so I'm going to assume she changed her mind."

Clint waves Phil toward a small sitting area by the corner windows that overlook a small park across the street. As he sits, Phil takes the opportunity to glance at the spacious office. In one corner, opposite the sitting area, is a small kitchenette and across the room is a desk and several large, sturdy looking, storage cabinets. Everything is decorated in modern black and steel, with splashes of color coming from abstract paintings hung on the walls. The most personal item is a small painting of a white farmhouse on the wall beside the desk, which looks somewhat out of place in the otherwise modern office. 

"You look surprised that I have a real office."

"What?" Phil startles and refocuses his attention on Clint. "No. I was just admiring the painting by your desk."

"It's from Steve. The others are from Sam's art classes at the VA. Was there something you needed to speak with me about?"

Clint's smile is polite and his posture is stiff—not tense, but definitely not relaxed like he is around Tony and Steve or how he'd been with the children at the Halloween party. Clint's performance had been impressive. He'd wowed all the children and adults in attendance with his acrobatics and skill with his bow. Phil had hoped to speak with him that night, but Clint had been swarmed by the children after the show and then had disappeared before Phil could seek him out. 

"First, I wanted to apologize for not speaking with you earlier. It's been a busy few weeks and I wanted to talk to you in person."

"I understand. Steve told me that Tony's been driving you and Melinda crazy with ideas for the next Expo. Have you changed your mind about my finding you a match?"

"No," Phil answers with a shake of his head. "But my hesitation is in no way a reflection of you. There was nothing in that background report that tells me you're not trustworthy and your relationship with several people I consider my closest friends tells me I'd be in good hands with you."

"But…"

"But I'm having a hard time convincing myself that I need a matchmaker."

"Oh."

"Steve suggested I let you tell me why you could help. He said he was reluctant at first too."

Clint's smile widens and Phil is glad to see that his shoulders also loosen. "Would you like some coffee? I could really use some."

"Oh, um. Sure. Yes. Coffee sounds great."

"Good," Clint says and stands, waving a hand toward the door. "There's a coffee shop around the corner, if you don't mind? Kate hasn't restocked the beans yet."

"Kate?"

"My assistant… partner… accountant? I'm not sure what she's calling herself this week. She hired herself and won't let me fire her. Not that it matters since I don't actually pay her."

"That's… good?"

"Her family's loaded. I'm not sure I could pay her enough to buy a pair of shoes."

Phil stands as Clint shrugs and walks over to his desk. He watches while Clint reaches up and takes a hearing aid out of each ear, placing them into a small container before putting it away in a drawer. Phil is surprised at himself for not noticing the bright purple aids in Clint's ears. 

"Don't worry. People miss them all the time," Clint says as he leads them out of the office. "You have a nice voice."

"Just wait until you hear me sing. I'm not sure even taking out your hearing aids could help."

Clint laughs and Phil grins back as they make it down the stairs and begin the short walk to the coffee shop. 

"What about you?"

"Do I sing? A little. Not much lately, but I play around on the piano whenever I get the chance."

"Have you heard Steve and Tony try to sing together?"

"Oh my god! It's like listening to a drowning cat trying to drown another cat."

They laugh together as they enter the coffee shop and Clint waves away Phil's objections when he instructs the barista to put their drinks on his regular tab. Soon they're ensconced in two comfortable armchairs in a warm corner by the fireplace, their drinks cooling in their hands.

"Did Steve already give you the spiel about how I'm better than an online dating service?"

"Yes. Is he right?"

"That depends on what you're looking for."

"To be honest, I'm not sure I know what I'm looking for."

Clint's smile tells Phil he's given the right answer. "Most people don't. Dating sites typically ask for things you _want_ in a partner. Those relationship don't always last because what you want may not be what you need. That's where I come in."

"You help people figure out what they need instead of what they want?"

"Well… I like to think I help them balance what they need with what they want."

Phil stops to think of the couples he knows that Clint has matched. He'd only ever met one of Melinda's prior boyfriends. Ward had been stoic, regimented, and had looked like a good match for Melinda. From what Phil witnessed, that relationship had fizzled quickly from a pure lack of any real passion from either side. Jasper, on the other hand, seemed to know exactly when Melinda needed his quiet support, a hug, or a good laugh. Their passion may not be flashy, but Phil can still see it just below the surface every time he's with them.

Then there's Steve and Tony. While they make look like polar opposites, they each have an underlying desire to do good that drives everything they do. They also both have an amazing ability to charm others, though in wildly different ways. Steve and Tony are undeniably good for each other—encouraging each other's finer points and helping to tame the rest. 

Clint is good, very good, and yet Phil still isn't sure he's ready to hire him.

"Can I ask how you got started as a matchmaker?" 

Clint leans back in his chair, cradling his coffee with a light shrug. "It was kind of an accident, really."

"Kind of?"

"After I left Hammer, I wanted nothing to do with anything military. My friend Natasha helped me out by giving me a bartending gig."

"She was the redhead who helped during your act?"

"Yup," Clint smiles fondly. "I've known her since my circus days and wish she'd worked with me then. Nothing makes her flinch."

"Now she owns a catering company?"

"And a bar downtown. Between there and the gigs Nat catered, I think I heard every sob story and complaint people had about never finding their match. One day, I just got fed up with all of it and dragged one regular over to meet another regular, who'd never tried talking to one another. Nat catered their wedding eight months later."

"How long before you turned that into a business?"

"About a year and three… no wait, I think it was four more matches. It was right about the time I realized my hearing was getting worse. Another year or so until I signed up to be Tony's test subject."

"It's hard to believe you went from Special Ops to being a matchmaker. Not that it's a bad shift," Phil quickly adds. "It just seems like a stretch."

"Technically, I went from circus to military to matchmaking."

"A new version of a Renaissance man?"

"Oh yeah," Clint chuckles. "I'm up there with da Vinci. But really, it wasn't too much of a stretch. I was a sniper. I watched people. Now I watch people and introduce them to other people."

"And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Have you found your own match?"

"That's the problem with being a sniper," Clint responds with a sheepish smile. "I've always seen better from a distance."

~^~

_You coming to Thanksgiving at Stark's?_ Phil texts Clint as he steps into the elevator and glides up to the penthouse.

_Nope. At Nat's._

_Fine. Leave me alone amongst the happy couples._

_No better here. This way I don't get skewered._

_Right. Natasha's much scarier than Tony._

_Soooooo much more._

"What are you grinning at? New boyfriend? Did you finally get Clint to match you?" Tony asks in a rush, making Phil startle. He realizes that he's stopped just outside the elevator doors and that Tony caught him smiling down at Clint's text.

"I was actually reading a message from Clint. He says he's sorry he couldn't make it tonight."

"Still can't believe he chose them over us," Tony grumbles as he walks toward the small group assembled in the dining room. He's quickly distracted by Pepper and Phil takes the opportunity to say hello to the others. He accepts a hug from Steve before holding a hand out to Lt. Col. Rhodes.

"Colonel Rhodes, it's good to see you again."

"Nice to see you, Phil. And how many times have I told you to call me Rhodey?"

"Several, I'm sure."

"Do you remember my wife, Carol?" Rhodey asks as she steps up to his side.

"Of course. _Captain_ Danvers. You're looking lovely, as always."

"Always great to see you, Phil," Carol says and steps forward to give Phil a quick hug. They've actually known each other longer than Phil has known Rhodey. "Glad to see you still keep up with all the military news."

"Congratulations on the promotion."

"Promotion? Who? You all should just quit whatever you're doing and come work for me."

"Not everyone needs to work for Stark Industries," Steve counters and wraps an arm around Tony's waist. "It sounds like Carol got promoted to Captain."

"Nice! That deserves a toast. Let me go grab a bottle of champagne."

"Actually…"

"Thanks, but I can't drink tonight, Tony." Carol looks at Rhodey with a smile. "Or for the next six months or so."

"What?!"

"Huh?"

"Oh my god! Congratulations!"

"Congratulations!"

There are hugs all around and Tony pulls out several bottle of champagne to celebrate Carol and Rhodey's news. Thanksgiving dinner is a happy and boisterous affair, but Phil feels a pang of loneliness that he can't shake. It's that feeling and a few too many glasses of champagne that has him sending a text to Clint during dessert.

_Wish you were here. Do you know Carol and Rhodey?_

_Yup,_ comes the near immediate reply. _Couldn't have made a better match myself_

_They're having a baby_

_Awesome! Must be something in the water. Luke and Jess too. March_

_Congrats to them_

Three minutes later, Phil's phone rings and he automatically excuses himself from the table to answer. It's not until he's already in the next room that he notices that it's Clint calling him, which is a surprise. Clint usually opts for texting over the actual phone calls. He must be wearing his hearing aids tonight.

"If Nat ever asks, you're a customer freaking out about meeting the family."

Phil grins, already feeling lighter than he had at the table. "Do you ever actually get away with lying to Natasha?"

"No, but it doesn't hurt to keep trying. You okay?"

"I'm fine. Just… a little lonely."

"The holidays will do that."

"Do you take clients over the holidays?"

"No. I'll talk to them, but I won't match them until after the New Year. Why? You finally in?"

"No. Yes. Maybe."

Phil expects Clint to tease him, but instead, his voice softens in understanding. "You don't need a match to get through the holidays, Phil. I know it's hard to watch other families come together and grow, but your life isn't incomplete because you're single. I also trust you to know yourself. If you really want a match, I'll make an exception."

"Who would you find for me, if I were to ask? What do you think I need?"

"We haven't really gone through the full interviews."

"Humor me."

They'd become friends after their first cup of coffee together, seeing or talking to each other every few days. Clint is amazingly easy to talk to and Phil knows they've spoken enough for Clint to make at least a cursory pass at who would be a good match for him. Clint sighs and Phil feels a moment of guilt for putting him on the spot.

"You want someone to come home to, but need that person to be independent enough that you don't worry about them when work calls you away. You want someone who believes they can do good in the world, but need them to be grounded in reality. You need someone who understands the evils that you've seen and to know that even your best effort can often not be enough, and love you just as much for trying. You need someone who won't turn away from the horrors that haunt your dreams, but want them to live life to the fullest and remind you to find that same joy. What you really want and what you need is someone you're willing to share your _whole_ life with, good and bad."

They're both silent for several moments after Clint's recitation. Phil doesn't bother countering what they both know is an accurate assessment of what Phil is looking for in a match.

"That's a pretty tall order. Do you think that person exists?"

"I don't know. I can never guarantee a perfect match… I can tell that if you give me the go, I'll do everything I can to find you the right person to make you happy."

~^~

Two weeks later, Phil knocks on Clint's open office door to find Kate sitting alone inside with her feet propped up on the desk.

"Ms. Bishop."

"Hey Phil. Clint's not back yet."

Phil takes off his coat, hanging it on the hook by the door, before sitting in the guest chair in front of the desk. Kate drops her feet and sets down the paperwork she'd been reading. She folds her hands on top of the papers and regards Phil with a look that would impress a seasoned interrogator. 

"Are you planning to hire Clint officially?"

"I'm still not certain I'm ready—"

"Because Clint likes you and he tends to go all in for people he cares about without expecting anything in return."

"He started looking?" Kate nods and Phil shakes his head. "I didn't ask—"

"You didn't have to ask. Like I said, he cares about you and you called him when you were feeling lonely. Clint likes to fix things—not always in the right way—but this is something he knows he can do for you."

"And you're worried that I won't pay him?"

"No, I'm worried that he's freaking out over something you don't actually want."

"Freaking out? Why?"

"Because he's having a hard time figuring out how to match you. That's never happened to him before."

Phil frowns. Clint seemed like he had a great idea of what Phil needed and there was nothing he'd said that Phil would disagree with. It doesn't make sense that Clint would be having difficulty now. 

"It's probably my fault. He's working without all the information he usually needs. I'll talk to him. Like I said, I'm still not sure I'm ready for a match."

"If you say so."

"Do you know how much longer he'll be?"

"Hard to tell. Natasha's isn't far, but it is Christmas. We don't usually let him out by himself this time of year, but Natasha needed an extra hand at the bar. Christmas shopping apparently drives people to drink."

"This time of year?"

"Remember what I said about Clint liking to fix things? That goes into overdrive during the holidays. He could be buying gifts for a family he met on the street or shoveling some old lady's stairs. Last year, he stole a dog."

"I _rescued_ a dog and you love Lucky."

They both look toward the door at the sound of Clint's voice and Kate lets out a long suffering sigh while Phil is on his feet and across the room in an instant. He takes the handkerchief out of his pocket to place it against Clint's bleeding lip and takes stock of the rest of his injuries. It doesn't look too bad, only a bruise on the cheek along with a small cut to add to the split lip. Phil touches the bruise gently to confirm no damage to the bone underneath and Clint winces, but his smile never fades.

"Hey Phil. Sorry I'm late."

"What happened? Were you mugged?"

"Huh? Nah. There were a couple of guys on the corner hassling a bell ringer, so I told them to stop."

"Told you," Kate says as she hands Phil an ice pack to put against Clint's cheek.

"Come on, Katie-Kate. I couldn't let them mess with the Salvation Army."

"At least say you gave as good as you got."

"Course I did. Those guys won't bully anyone again and I gave the bell ringer my tazer."

Phil leads Clint to the couch and prods him into holding the ice pack himself. He then takes the handkerchief to the sink to dampen it before heading back.

"Did the fight take an hour?" Kate asks.

"Uh, no," Clint answers sheepishly as Phil starts to dab at his lip. "I ran into Mrs. McGowan as I was getting off the subway. She had a bunch of bags, so I helped her home."

"Home being five blocks away and four flights of stairs up? Is her elevator still busted?"

"Why do you think I walked her home?"

"Okay, I'm done. Phil, you get to be the babysitter for the rest of the day." Kate grabs her purse and walks to the door. "Don't forget to let Natasha know you made it back."

"Yes, mom!" 

Phil drops his hand as Clint grins at him unabashedly. "It sounds like you make a habit of playing Good Samaritan."

"I wouldn't call it a habit. I just… like to help. I can't keep the world safe anymore, but I can help a little old lady who always buys more than she can carry."

"And keep bell ringers from being harassed."

"And that."

"How much money did you put in the bucket before you came up?"

Clint blushes and looks down. "I may need you to spot me for lunch."

"Or we could go somewhere other than a vendor at the park and we can use our credit cards."

"You don't like my hot dog guy?"

"I like Arturo just fine, but how about we go to the diner today? I can tell you more about Mack and not have to speak through my teeth chattering."

"Almost forgot I asked you for that. I think he'd be a good match for Fitz. I can tell you about him over lunch."

They both stand and Phil goes to grab his coat while Clint takes a minute to glance at the papers Kate left on the desk.

"Kate says you've started looking for me. I thought we agreed I wasn't ready."

"I figured it wouldn't hurt to get a head start."

"You don't have to."

"I know."

"Clint. You _really_ don't have to."

Clint finally looks up at Phil. "Katie told you I was having trouble, didn't she?"

"She did. I know I'm not making it easy on you. Don't worry about it for now, okay?"

"Will you at least look at someone I think may be an option?"

"Sure." 

Phil walks over to the desk as Clint pulls a folder out of a drawer and slides it across to Phil. When Phil sees the picture inside, he nearly laughs at how on-target Clint actually is.

"That's Audrey."

"You know her?"

"She's my ex-girlfriend. It didn't work out. Her dad was a general, so she grew up with the military, but we didn't have much else in common. Don't get me wrong, I think we were good together. There just wasn't enough there to hold onto when Audrey moved to Portland. How did you meet her?"

"She was back a few months ago for a couple of concerts and Nat catered the opening. Audrey didn't call you?"

"There was no reason for her to."

"Oh." 

Clint looks dejected as he takes the folder back and Phil reaches out to give his hand a squeeze. "It's okay, Clint. Let's get past the holidays and then see if I'm ready. Okay?"

"Yeah, okay. Let's go. I'm starving."

~^~

"Merry Christmas!"

Phil laughs at Tony's tailored Santa suit and lets himself be ushered inside the penthouse. Tony's holiday party is always a boisterous affair, but small, with only his closest friends invited. This year, the guest list has been extended to Steve's friends as well. Phil knows that Clint, Natasha, and Bucky will also be there that night and he's looking forward to a relaxing evening among friends.

"Phil!"

Phil accepts Pepper's hug warmly. "Glad to see you made it home through the storm."

"Nobody misses Tony's Christmas party, you know that."

"Of course."

"You look great. It looks like you're handling the stress better these days."

"Thank you, I guess. I really haven't been doing anything different."

"You don't look like you need it, but I could use a glass of wine. Come on."

Pepper leads Phil toward the bar and Phil automatically scans the room. He spots Clint easily, sitting on the back of a loveseat while talking to Melinda and Bucky. Clint's clearly in the middle of a story, his face lit with amusement and hands moving enthusiastically—half sign, half acting out the motions of his tale. Phil takes a moment to watch and doesn't see Pepper look back and forth between them.

" _Oh_."

Phil takes his eyes off Clint to look at Pepper, wary at the tone in her voice. "Oh?"

"It's Clint. You're happy and relaxed because of Clint."

"He hasn't matched me."

"That's not what I said. You like him."

"Of course I… We're friends."

Pepper raises a skeptical eyebrow. "I saw how you looked at him. You _like_ Clint."

"I... "

"Admit it, he's hot."

"He is, but… Even if I find him attractive, it doesn't mean he'd be interested in me. He's… he's Clint."

Pepper hums disbelievingly and Phil takes a chance to glance back over at Clint. Their eyes meet and Phil watches, a little amazed, as Clint's smile widens and softens fondly when he sees Phil. He says something to Natasha and Melinda before vaulting over the back of the chair and starts heading toward Phil.

"I may not be a professional matchmaker, but even I can see what's right in front of me," Pepper says. "Maybe you should try looking at what's in front of _you_."

Phil looks and he sees Clint. Good looking, kind hearted Clint, who's had a rough life but still manages to find the good in people. Clint, who's told Phil that he has great eyes and a nice voice. Clint, who he can talk to for hours and who never seems to tire of spending time with him. Clint, who Phil can now admit he likes as more than a friend and Clint, who Phil thinks may feel the same about him. Clint, who is now looking back at him with concern.

"Phil? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yes. I'm good. Great, actually. I've decided that I'm ready to matched."

"Oh! Um, yeah. Okay. That's, uh, great. Yeah, great. We can, um, start tomorrow. Or, you know, after the holiday and—"

Clint's stumbling hesitation erases the last of Phil's doubts and he steps forward, cradling Clint's cheek with his hand before placing a gentle kiss on his lips. When Phil pulls away, Clint's eyes are wide with surprise, but he doesn't move out of Phil's hold. 

"How about we start now?"

"Me? You want to be matched to me?"

"Yes," Phil nods. "Everything you described that I needed, is you. Can't you see it?"

"I see better from a… _really_?"

"Yes, really. I think I waffled about being matched because it was the matchmaker I wanted all along."

"Oh. And maybe I had trouble matching you because I wanted to be the person on the list."

"Maybe?"

Clint puts both hands on Phil's waist and pulls him closer. "Definitely. You… you're amazing, Phil. How could I not want you?"

They both start to lean in, but are interrupted by a loud yell from across the room.

"Everyone here owes me a hundred bucks!" Tony demands. "Pay up, all of you. It's all going to charity anyway."

There are a few grumbles around the room, but nobody argues as they all reach for their wallets.

"You all bet on us getting together?" Phil asks Steve, who's walking around collecting the cash.

"Yup. It was pretty obvious to the rest of us that you guys were a match, we just weren't sure how long it would take you to see it. Congratulations, by the way."

"Thanks, I guess."

Clint steps back, taking Phil's hand and giving it a tug as he leads him out of the room into the hallway. Once they're alone, he steps close again and rests their foreheads together.

"You're sure?" Clint asks softly. "You really want to try this with me?"

"Yes. If you do."

"I do, it's just… For all the people I've matched, I never really thought I'd find my own."

"And I never thought I'd need a match at all."

"Guess we were made for each other."

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

As they close the distance between them to let their lips meet once again, a rightness settles in Phil's chest. He knows without doubt that everything he wants and needs is now in his arms.

~ _fin_ ~


End file.
